Cecily: No.
Dom: That was funny.
Cecily: Not even remotely.
Dom: She approved my trip, with the caveat that I answer emails and call in to meetings. Sorry to disappoint you.
Cecily: Are you?
Dom: Nope.
CHAPTER 20
Cecily
Ugh.Why do I find Dom's All About Me kind of cute?
CHAPTER 21
Dominic
I lookedin the mirror after I read Cecily's All About Me. Can confirm hearts decorated my eyes.
CHAPTER 22
Dominic
Cecily has beenradio silent since that evening in the restaurant parking lot. Mostly, anyway. We exchanged our All About Me's, and earlier today, when I was on my way to the JFK airport in a torrential downpour, she answered a FaceTime call I hadn't meant to place. She was at work, sitting at her desk eating a salad she'd brought from home. Her hair rode high on her head in a ponytail, cheekbones prominently displayed.
"What?" she'd snapped, looking irritated.
It had rankled me, though I didn't know why. Shouldn't I be used to Cecily being generally displeased at my existence? I guess I thought we'd made progress after our talk, even more so after the All About Me pages we'd exchanged.
I guess not. Cecily seems hell-bent on keeping me squarely in the category of People I'd Kill If I Had A Get Out Of Jail Free card.
I'd told her I didn't mean to FaceTime her, and she'd saidK byeand hung up. The Uber driver's sympathetic look pierced me through the rearview mirror. I offered a perfunctory smile and looked out my window, watching the rain pelt the glass and bounce off.
I spent most of the flight thinking about what I'd gotten myself into with this road trip, but I kept from letting my thoughts stray too far into thewhy.What I told Cecily is true. I've got a dying woman's last wishes on my conscience, and pissing off Cecily is more fun than I've had in a long time. There's something more there, though, something deeper, and I'm unwilling to dig. Shovels down, blinders on.
Klein's waiting for me at the arrivals curb at Sky Harbor International Airport. The trunk of his 4Runner is open wide, waiting for the large duffel I checked.
"I've seen a lot more of you since you got married," Klein jokes, taking the duffel from my hands. He hoists it into the back. "Hope there wasn't anything breakable in there."
"Laptop's in my backpack," I say, dropping it from my shoulder and onto the floor of the passenger side.
"You ready for Monday?" Klein asks, navigating into the sea of airport traffic.
"As I'll ever be," I answer. There's an edge in my tone.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm tired. I'm hungry. Long travel day." The heavy rain caused a two-hour delay. I'd sat at the airport, reading the manuscript one of my newer clients sent over. A tell-all from her time working in the restaurant industry.
Klein gives me a knowing look. "That's it?"
"Yeah," I answer, tight-lipped. The truth is, the longer I thought about Cecily on that flight, the more a leaden sensation gathered in my stomach. Apprehension, if I had to name it.
Could Cecily and I have been something, if not for the misunderstanding that took on a life of its own? Am I signing myself up for a world of pain, just to keep Cecily from going through this alone?
